


never so much blood

by sophiestormborn



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Finale spoilers, Gen, Violence, and she'snot dead, she's alive until she'sdead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiestormborn/pseuds/sophiestormborn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Moonlight walking, I smell your softness<br/>carnivorous and lusting to track you down among the pines.<br/>I want you stuffed into my mouth<br/>hold you down and tear you open, live inside you -<br/>love, I'd never hurt you."</p>
<p>A post-finale drabble, Hannigail if you squint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never so much blood

It was red and hot and dark. The heat burning her in the otherwise frigid room. Cold was the metal harsh against the bare skin of her arms and face, it’s bite angry, it’s jaws nipping away the last of the heat pooling around her. Colder were the fingers trailing up her back, tentacles of ice and bone that rested against her throat, reading the signs that her slowing pulse threw at them. Coldest of all was the voice that came along with the frozen tendrils, like an iceberg covering itself in the warmth of the sun, appearing to melt and soften before your eyes only to have the reality of their chill hidden from view until it was time to bring you down.

“Very good, Abigail,” he purred. His hands brushed away the strands of hair that stuck to the bloody chasm. “Almost a clean cut, we’ll have time to work on that that though”

His supple lips twisted into a smirk as the expression on her face went from a painful dazed to absolute fear. 

“We wouldn't practice on you of course,” He let her hair fall back across her face, covering the marring wound that would soon turn to a second scar.

Her trembling lips were only millimetres away from a grin, but the stickiness of the drying blood held them too closely together for her to bother working against. 

A father cut her throat so she would not speak of his sins.

A second gave her the blade, and she heard not of his crimes.

The third however, lay far away. On a floor as cold as hers.

**Author's Note:**

> title and summary from the Ludo song "The Horror of Our Love" This is my first time writing any Hannibal stuff so please feel free to comment or give pointers! (I really have no idea what I'm doing)


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